


Reminisce

by IuvenesCor



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Post-Game, brief non-graphic reference to Major Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IuvenesCor/pseuds/IuvenesCor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Oh, she missed being Melia to someone. She was the Empress to so many people, but to a few, she was still just</i> Melia <i>and it was a wonderful thing to remember.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminisce

**Author's Note:**

> (Warning: very brief discussion of major endgame spoilers in the notes ahead.)
> 
>  
> 
> This piece exists in a Canon Divergent universe (inspired by a handful of sidequests) wherein Zanza is defeated, yet Shulk is not given the option to reset the world and everything continues on as it was just prior to the final battle. 
> 
> The snippet itself was directly inspired by the nature of the Reyn/Melia interaction in the Heart-to-Heart "Ancient Wreckage." I just see such a big brother/little sister sort of potential there, and it's too lovely for me to ignore.

A goodwill envoy from Colony 6. Oh, nothing thrilled the Empress’s heart more than those words! It was a secret joy that she kept to herself.

 

There was work to be done first, of course. Formalities, for the most part. She wouldn’t have it any other way; her station and theirs were meant to be respected. She ordered the guest chambers to be thoroughly cleaned and called for all manner of appropriate welcoming gifts, whether food, technology, literature— anything at all. Alcamoth was in her glory once more, and the city certainly had an abundance to share.

 

Then there was a brief time of discussion with the ministers of the various departments. They dwelt on simple things, merely reviewing what they felt was appropriate to mention and what they did not; advising her about various statistics and approximates and how each one could affect relations; reminding her of the recent changes known to them in all the Bionic regions and the Fallen Arm— as she insisted— so as to never again make the mistake of her ancestors in detaching themselves from everyone else.

 

And finally, her own preparations. Not very much to do in that case: her apparel would remain the same, her visage also, and there was no reason to leave the throne room. She only needed to ensure that she hid the little smile bubbling up behind the surface.

 

The greeting, the exchanges, the reports— they were each one satisfactory. Pleasantries, conversational and material, were conveyed smoothly all the while; and her discussion with the lead Colony 6 representative was wonderfully sans ill tidings. It was all just a small show of faith between those in Alcamoth and those in the Colony. But hardly was it of insignificant impact: it was encouraging to be visited in peace time and not just during hardship. She sent the envoy toward their quarters with contentment in her heart. Contentment…and much restrained celebration. She was not impatient to release that feeling, however. She knew her moment would come at the last echo of the last footstep.

 

She was alone, save for the company of one lone man from the envoy. No one had questioned why a Homs from lower Bionis would linger patiently in the throne room of the most esteemed Empress of the High Entia. Likely, their silence was for the fact that they knew, that they remembered what used to be in years past. It hardly mattered, anyway. The details were just for these two alone.

 

He was silver-haired, this Homs, with a mustache that he would have been mocked for were he in his youth. Yet time insisted on passing, if not kindly. He was now aged, wrinkled around the eyes and lips, afflicted of his right leg by a soft limp. His strong frame was growing thinner, and his strong voice was growing fainter, and his skin, as it should, told the story of a life long lived. But most of all, he was still glowing with a grand spark of boyishness that the Empress knew could never, ever be put out.

 

She was glad for that.

 

“Hi there, Your Highness,” the old Homs grinned. Despite his neglect of decorum, his greeting was perhaps the most respectful thing she had heard in years.

  
Fondly, the Empress nodded. “It pleases me greatly that you came to visit me.”

 

That unmistakable smile twitched into something milder, something apologetic. “I figured it had been too long.”

 

“Several years have indeed passed,” she confirmed, drawing closer to her guest. “It is partly my fault. I might have visited Colony 6 sooner.”

 

“Oh, you ain’t got to blame yourself. You have a whole city on your shoulders; you can’t just up and go whenever you feel like it.”

 

The Empress laughed within herself. Something in that gentle reprimand made her feel fifty years younger. “That is true, Reyn. Thank you.” For a moment, she tilted her head again, staring at the floor thoughtfully, but her recovery was rapid. “Before you say anything else, you must tell me how Sharla is.”

 

Like ether crystals, his eyes glittered brilliantly. “Still going strong, that woman. Nobody can keep ‘er down. She misses you a lot— said to tell you that you two will have to have a nice, long ‘girl chat’ someday soon.”

 

“Then tell her that I would be happy to accept,” she replied with a smile wider than she’d shared for much too long. “And the children?”

 

“All safe and happy, as far as they’ll tell me.” The Homs man beamed. “Did you know I’ve got a fourth grandkid now?”

 

“That is wonderful, Reyn. Congratulations!”

 

“Thanks, Melia.” (Oh, she missed being Melia to someone. She was the Empress to so many people, but to a few, she was still just _Melia_ and it was a wonderful thing to remember.)“So…you ain’t found anyone yet, then?”

 

She paused, glancing away for a moment out of mere habit. “No. But I am convinced that, if my father’s line is to continue, I will meet my match at the proper time. Otherwise, I will make myself content.”

 

_Because I still cannot replace him for good,_ she thought to herself. _Not that he was ever mine to replace._ That, however, was not a subject to discuss— not for this time. But it did bring forward a valid query.

 

“And how is Fiora?”

 

Another fond expression overtook the Homs’s face. “Taking care of herself, as she does. She…takes it hard, sometimes. When she gets lonely, she’ll come over and stay with us for a few days. We all miss ‘em both.”

 

“As do I,” the Empress agreed, wistful, somber, and still tender from a twice-broken heart.

 

“Well, o’ course. I counted you in there as ‘we’— and Riki, too. I still call us a team, Melia, and don’t you forget it.”

 

“I certainly try not to. I believe we made too satisfactory a team to ever truly disband under good conscience.”

 

“Yeah, that’s the answer I wanted to hear,” he lauded gently. “Can’t be too good for us just because you’re royalty. Never stopped you before.”

 

She couldn’t stop her lips from tilting up again, even if she’d desired it. “My station means nothing in the presence of my friends. That has not changed.”

 

A pleasant sigh left his lungs. “And I’m sure glad for that.”

 

In their pause, a hallowed silence filled the great hall and wrapped around them, binding the two with a common faith— the faith of brotherly love, of unparalleled respect and selflessness. Never could all of Bionis know a stronger platonic affection between any creatures still standing on its soil. It was a beautiful feeling.

 

The Empress’s heart wavered as she took the old Homs by the hand, squeezing it with care. “Thank you, Reyn. Your visit has done me more good than I can repay you for.”

 

“Melia!” His gaze was sincere, his voice kind and yet vibrant with something quite like a fatherly reproof. “You don’t ever have to repay me for anything. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“It does me good too, anyway. I’m really missin’ your insults lately.”

 

“What? You enjoy being called thick-headed and brash?”

 

“Hah! Was that sarcasm?” Amused, the Homs wagged his head. “Just like old times. But you gotta admit, I’ve gotten better.”

 

“You have indeed,” she chuckled.

 

Another pause, though this one was punctuated with even more fondness and light-heartedness than the last. The man before her shifted his weight, face absolutely glowing. “Well, I ought to visit that nice room you set up for us. Won’t do to keep anyone waiting for me.” He opened his mouth, stopped, and opened it again. “So just because you’re an important leader n’ all don’t mean I can’t still give you a good old bear hug, right?”

 

“Reyn…” Unafraid of emotion, the Empress stepped into her dear friend’s arms and embraced him. She buried her face in his clothes and closed her eyes, transported through years and memories until she was really just Melia again.

 

“Oh, Reyn. Nothing could make me happier.”

 

 


End file.
